


Of Science and Technology

by Otava



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Arguments, Fighting, Gen, SCIENCE!, Technology, my smart boys, nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otava/pseuds/Otava
Summary: A birthday fic for Pikkulef"Something about Reid and Jackson geeking out over science."Edmund Reid and Homer Jackson have little chats about advancements in technology over the years.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pikkulef](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikkulef/gifts).



Homer Jackson and Edmund Reid didn’t have much in common. One thing that they did have in common, however, was their love for new technology and science. Early on in their strange relationship, even before they were even friends, they discovered their mutual interest by a small accident. That incident unknowingly helped their bond become stronger.

Most of his life, Reid had been attracted to all things innovative and scientific. As a young boy he would often read of the changing times and of the advancements clever men of science had made. He would get his nose into a good and informational book whenever he had the chance to do so. When he joined the police force, his love for science was renewed. Chemicals, poison, narcotics, and the occasional use of explosive were regular aspects of his job that he wished to know more about. Studying them, at least the basics of them, helped him with job and simply fascinated him at the same time. 

While some of the scientific facts that he knew had been discovered due to the many years he worked his job; the other source of his knowledge was from reading. Reid read articles, papers, scholarly journals and scientific or forensic textbooks as a hobby in addition to his normal reading almost on a daily basis. Learning could do nothing but help him, he reasoned with himself every time he purchased new material. His expenses were justified. One such of these texts he regularly read was a periodical that contained within its pages the world’s newest scientific, engineering and the occasional new technology advancements. He usually kept his reading material at home or tucked safely away on his desk.

One evening, Homer Jackson, a man Reid personally employed on occasion, found his way to Reid’s office to ask him a question.

“Mr. Reid, I wanted to run this by you before I did it but... Hey, what is it you’ve got there?” A smirk crawled across Jackson’s face

“What?” Reid demanded, not quite catching on to what the American was talking about.

“That.” Jackson pointed to the periodical on Reid’s desk.

“Oh,” Reid furiously blinked. “That’s my magazine. Why?”

“Cause I got one, myself, that I left in that room I was working in. I thought you confiscated it or something,I dunno,” Jackson chuckled lightly. “I would have never figured you a man of science. Most of your kind are against it.”

“My kind?”

“Coppers. They only believe that a criminal is guilty if he is caught with the bloodied weapon or someone says they are guilty.”

“I think the fact that I employ you under the table, proves quite the contrary. There are certainly other methods to prove guilt, as you well know. You’ve been more than helpful than the other surgeons in our employ with your science.”

“But you're the only one who’s willing to try my methods.”

Reid paused. “I suppose so.”

\----------------------

Jackson came into the Stationhouse to help Reid two weeks later.

“Did you read the new issue yet?” Jackson asked as Reid was looking over his work.

“Of what? Ah the magazine! No, I haven’t the time. I’ve been busy with the case...”

“You mean-” Jackson started.

“Yes, that one,” Reid said, tensed and tired. 

“I can tell you about the main articles if you want while we’re waiting for the results here. One thing first.” Jackson turned on one of the bunsen burners he had been working on and lit up a cigarette. He took one puff before handing it to Reid. “Here, I think you need this.”

\-------------------------------

“Really, guncotton?” Jackson coughed as they sat outside of the charred remains of the photographer’s darkroom they had just been trapped in with Drake.

“It was mentioned in one of the papers I read about two months ago,” Reid said.

“Have you ever made it before now?

“No.”

Jackson started chuckling. “You amaze me, Reid.”

“How come you didn’t think of that. You're supposed to be the scientific one,” Drake accused.

\-----------------------------

“I can’t believe you made me my own goddamned deadroom!”

“Just as you described,” Reid said repeated proudly for the second time that day. It was evening now and Jackson and he were breaking in the new room. Both were equally excited.

“How on God’s green earth did you remember.” Jackson was referring to that evening they had talked for hours about John Hopkins over drinks. They had chatted about science, experiments and their results. Jackson was more than happy to tell a listening ear about his findings but Reid was different, he listened attentively. 

“You were quite passionate about the building,” Reid smiled softly. “It made me want to see it too. So, I brought it here to you. I hope you won’t disappoint.”

“I trust you've tested all the equipment yourself before you let me in.”

“I may have.”

\--------------------------------

“I need you to help me send a telegraph,” Reid commanded.

“Me?!”

“You're the only other one around at this hour who would be of any help.” It was about a quarter to two in the morning and everyone was gone, asleep. “It’s important.”

“Do it yourself.”

“I don’t know Morse.”

“A learned man such as yourself doesn't know Morse code?” Jackson asked inquisitively.

“I have a book at home and know the basics but the message I need to send is important. I don’t have room for error and I was hoping that you may know how to use one since you were in the Army and worked as a Pinkerton.”

“I’ll be right up to the room. Five minutes.”

Reid walked up the staircase by himself and looked at the wired machine on the table. He really had meant to learn how to use it, but with Hobbs and the other constables working for him, he hadn’t the needed to. 

Jackson came up the stairs to find Reid staring at the machine intenltly.

“It’s not going to bite you, you know.” 

“I know,” Reid admitted. “But I have no idea how to work it and don’t want to break it.”

“I’ve never used one before either,” Jackson admitted.

“Then why are you up here?”

“An opportunity. Never had the chance to play around with one of these before.”

“Jackson, this is not a plaything or an experiment. It’s an expensive piece of equipment!”

“Fine. I won’t help you then.”

“No wait!”

“I thought so,” Jackson smirked. He loomed over Reid who was sitting in the only chair. 

“Let's see now…” Jackson mumbled to himself. Suddenly, he crouched to the floor and looked underneath the table. Reid’s body tensed up as the other man on the floor for some reason. “Got it!” Jackson shouted as he hit his head.

“What is it you’ve got?” Reid’s voice crackled.

“His notes,” Jackson said as he emerged from underneath the table with his hair tousled. He slapped upon the flat surface a half-sheet of paper with telegraph basic, written ever so small by hand. Reid looked impressed. “I saw Hobbs under here once. He tacked this under the table when he was still learning.”

“This is most helpful, Captain.”

The two got to work. 

“This machine is incredible,” Reid breathed as his large fingers danced on the small knob of the telegraph that allowed him to create letters.

“It really is.”

“To think, I’m communicating with someone miles away with just the tip of my finger.”

“Yes, but you must stop hogging the machine! I don’t know why you made me come up here if you won’t let me do anything.”

“You found the paper. And converted the message to the code.”

“You made me do all the work with no reward!”

“I’ll let you do the last sentence, but I have to wait here all night for the reply. You’ve got the better end of this partnership,” Reid smiled. It was now around 3 am. The smile on Jackson's smile sparkled in the moonlight.

\---------------------------------

“Have you taken a look at this month’s Science Journal yet?” Reid asked Jackson as he came into the dead room to check on a case’s progress.

“Nah. Haven’t had the time,” Jackson said poking at a lung with his scalpel. “Anything interesting this time around?”

“A few articles and dissertations. Edison put a new patient out again.”

“I’m not surprised. Bastard. But he is doing more than I’ll ever do with my life, I’ll give him that.”

“You do a lot, Jackson”

“I’m not as spectacular as him,” Jackson pointed out. “He’s making money.”

“He’s an inventor, you're a surgeon.”

“Exactly! He’s done more with this life than I have... and more importantly, is making money from it”

“Jackson, I say this in earnest: I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“You’d figure something out.” Jackson's eyes flashed mysteriously, as if he had other plans and secrets that he neglected to tell Reid of.

\-------------

The whole of H-division hadn’t slept in days. There had been three killings in the last week, and during that time, nobody got any sleep. Reid was currently pacing around the room in an agitated circle.

“Will you hurry it up, man!?”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Jackson stood with a pipette and a bunch of chemicals in all sorts of shaped containers. His eyes were sunken in and he was in desperate need of caffeine, nicotine, or anything that could help him focus and stay awake better.

“How much longer?”

“It’s done when it's done, goddammit!”

Reid’s pacing stopped. “I cannot stress enough how much I need this _now_ , Jackson. Lives are at stake!”

Jackson stopped his work too. 

“If you think you can do a better job, then you do it.” Jackson shoved his pipetted and bottle of liquid he was working with into Reid’s hands. The liquid sloshed over the side and Jackson walked out, leaving Reid standing there with his hands full and his shirt soiled.

Jackson walked out of the station in a hurry and slipped off to fill his belly. Reid could be demanding sometimes, too demanding. He was sure when he returned he’d find Reid and his men rushing around the lab with their heads cut off, and he’d get an earful. A break to whet one’s whistle was always good.

When he returned, Reid was still in the room, leaning over Jackson's findings and workspace. He didn’t glance up as Jackson entered the room so Jackson decided to get back to work at his station. Reid, however, did seem to notice once Jackson was working next to him. He grabbed Jackson by his lapels and yanked him towards his own body.

“Just what do you think you’re doing!”

“I was taking a break,” Jackson said as coolly as possible. He felt his anger began to rise as Reid pushed him back towards the table to release him. Glass broke and spilt all over the work space. “What the hell, Reid!” Jackson howled, removing himself from the table and using his full strength to give a shove at Reid.

Reid nearly lost his footing, but when he regained it, he gave Jackson a poisonous look and rushed at Jackson, pushing him down upon the glass-shattered covered table. They were fighting now. Actual fighting. In the end, they gave up on the thing they were working on for the day. 

The next day, a few shards remained on the floor that hadn’t been picked up from their previous fight. Jackson sat at his station watching a tinted liquid filter it’s way through a twisty tube. Today he felt a lot better. He had a full night sleep for the first time in awhile and food in his stomach. Reid probably felt the same way. They were both too damn tired from lack of sleep and it just got out of hand.

Reid lingered near the doorway.

“Come in,” Jackson allowed. This time he was the one not looking up from his work.

“Jackson-”

“What do you want, Reid? I've had to start this whole process over from scratch and with substitute and less than ideal methods.” Jackson gestured to the pile of smashed beakers. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

“I just wanted to say, Captain. About yesterday; what I mean to say is that I’m sorry.” Reid’s hand found itself on Jackson's’ shoulder, “You may take all the time you need to yields proper results.” Reid released Jackson's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

Jackson finally turned around and nodded. “Thanks. See you around, Reid.”


End file.
